


riot buddies

by mangomunkki



Category: Original Work
Genre: Modern AU, general anarchy, stealing things for fun and profit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:49:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23737864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangomunkki/pseuds/mangomunkki
Summary: Bea and Zero get into some mischief.
Kudos: 1
Collections: Apocalypse Universe





	riot buddies

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a quick drabble I wrote up about a couple of OC:s from mine and a friend's RP campaign! if you're interested in hearing more about them, go peep at my twitter @creatormango

Sometimes, just sometimes, Zero wondered why he seemed to always end in these kinds of situations. Did fate have it out for him? If so, why? At least this time he knew who’d got him into this particular mess.  
Well, he thought, as he tweaked another screw loose from the giant light fixture attached to a nightclub’s wall, maybe he’d take it up with her after he was no longer a dozen feet up from the ground.

It was meant to be another protest-to-turn-to-riot. Zero’d been tipped off about this particular one by his boyfriend, and he really did not want to know where Castor had found out. They ran the same scene he did, that was true, but this particular gathering had been completely new information for him. No social media presence, no hints of it in any of the group chats he was part of, just a crumpled up flier Castor had handed passed with a wink and a finger lifted to their lips.  
Zero turned up at the specified location a bit before the specified time, slightly on edge. The meeting place was under a large bridge, on the edge of the seedier part of the city centre. A location so on-the-nose had to raise some questions in his mind. It could be a cop stakeout, for all he knew. Or something equally shitty.

The place was bustling by the time he got there. He counted fifty participants, maybe more, all decked out in leather jackets and bandannas covering their faces. Zero straightened the cuff of his own jacket, the old thing that was basically his second skin at that point, and stepped up, catching the eye of one of the guys handing out water bottles. Instead of a nod, a greeting or any kind of acknowledgment he’d even seen him, the guy instead turned around, hollering. “Hey, Ghost, who’s this guy? You didn’t mention a newcomer joining us.”

Zero lifted an eyebrow at the namedrop, crossing his arms. ‘Ghost’, huh. Well, this was rich.

Ghost was something of a legend in the local riot scene. No one really knew anything about them, save that they apparently organised just about everything behind the scenes, yet never got caught or even showed their face. Some people – well, to be fair, none of them really all that sober – went so far as to characterise them as the ‘embodiment of the spirit of ‘fuck the system’’. Zero never really bought into all that – why would he? No way someone so deep into the scene would never get caught, and organise everything without people knowing anything about them? Nah, urban legend or fanciful tale, that’s all. Still, bit crass of this ‘Ghost’ to use the moniker.

He didn’t have to wait long to catch a glimpse of the mastermind of this gathering. Apparently the bottle guy’s question had gotten everyone’s attention, as the people around him stopped their business, instead turning to just look at him, more or less gawking. He could hear a couple of discreet whispers, some slightly less concealed murmurs of ‘who the fuck’ but paid them no mind. He was way more interested in the way the mass of people seemed to part at the back, a ripple passing through them as, apparently, someone short made their way over. Well, they certainly weren’t in a hurry.  
At last, the people standing in front of him – who’d got gradually closer, by the way, what the hell was going on – stepped aside, revealing a young girl, no way more than 15 years old. “Is this a joke?” slipped out before Zero could control himself – but it had to be.  
Seriously. The girl was short as hell, probably couple of heads less than him at least, tiny frame wrapped in a thick, black bomber covered in band patches. He noted her banged-up combat boots with appreciation, raising his eyes to meet hers and got the most apathetic look he’d ever received in return. And, well, considering he lived with Ren, he got his share of those. The corner of her lip, immaculately lined in black lipstick, quirked up, the first indicator that there actually was any soul inside her, as she snickered in response to his comment. “Oh, it is not. So, Zero, you actually followed the invite. I am glad.”

Wait, hold up, stop the track. How did this kid know his name? Castor, it had to be. This was some elaborate prank they were playing on him, wasn’t it. Probably to get back at him for borrowing one of their knives without permission or something equally petty. Har har, very funny. But ah, whatever. This ‘Ghost’ was probably waiting for a reply.  
“You mean the one you tossed to Castor? Yup, thought I might as well”, he replied, noticing her give a finger flick to the people crowding him, them subsequently backing off. So she was calling the shots, at least to some extent, then. “I’d normally introduce myself at this point, you know. But, since you seem to already know my name, it’d only seem fair that you give me the same courtesy.”

The kid raised an eyebrow, the hint of amusement dropping off her face. “You do, though.” Funny, even with no facial expressions, her voice seemed puzzled. “I am Ghost.” Zero sighed in reply, rolling his shoulders. “Right. Okay. So, Ghost, who you are, despite having been in the scene for at least ten years despite being like, fifteen. Is there any action to be had here or did I come here for no reason?”  
Ghost, or whoever she really was, replied with a sigh. “Who do you take me for? I would not have gone through the trouble of getting hold of your boyfriend for just a courtesy call. Things are going to go tits-up today, and I am going to need your firepower in it.” Despite her words, there was a tinge of excitement in her tone of voice, and as she turned around to get the rest of the preparations for the group done, Zero decided to hold on to that feeling. What the hell, might as well get into a fight or two on the way home, right.

A fight or two might’ve been an understatement, Zero pondered, as he kicked his fifth opponent to the ground. The rally they’d set out to interrupt had been larger than even Ghost had anticipated, and, in hindsight, they really could’ve used some more people out there. Still, no way these idiots could match them in one-on-one fights, plus, they didn’t exactly fight fair. He’d discovered the ‘water bottles’ were, in fact, Molotovs, when Ghost had unscrewed the first one – shooting him a quick grin, seemingly neutral with a touch of honest ferality – and lobbed it at the gathering mass of white college kids with a smattering of expletives.  
With the first explosion of fire and heat, their so far very organised group split off into a few separate masses, each targeting a different segment of the rally. Zero had ended up alone with Ghost, though, to be fair, he didn’t mind. For all her young age, she really held her own, pushing for more ground and tactically harassing their opponents whenever they seemed close to grouping up against her guys. Zero ended up more or less tailing her, taking out anyone trying to go after her, like they’d agreed.

The walls of the surrounding alleyways were suddenly washed in red and blue, coupled with the earsplitting howls of police sirens. Ghost swore, clicking her lighter shut and tossing the bottle she’d just lit aflame. “Balls. We are out of time. Draw back! Get out of here!” Her commanding voice seemed to rise above the din of the fighting, her group swiftly disengaging and disappearing to alleyways, quickly falling out of sight entirely. The more Zero saw, the more it was obvious this wasn’t their first time – they moved swiftly, in unison, and trusted Ghost’s orders without hesitation. He still wasn’t sold on her being the Ghost, she was a kid, for fuck’s sake, but she certainly knew how to lead her little troupe.

Shaking off the guy he was just about done pummelling, he felt a hand grab at his arm, tugging him to the side. Almost punching out of reflex, he saw it was Ghost, ushering him toward a side alley he was almost sure wasn’t there before. “Oh come on, I am not ruining my escapee reputation if you keep dragging your feet! Move it, move it.”  
Ghost didn’t really have to tell him twice, it wasn’t like Zero was eager to get caught either. As it was, cops didn’t exactly have a winning streak with how they treated nonwhite prisoners, and he had no interest in trying his luck. And, considering Ghost’s ebony skin, it probably played a part in why she was so adamant on not getting caught herself.

He wasn’t sure quite how long they’d ran, dodging and twisting around side streets and narrow alleys. At some point Ghost took a turn to a seemingly dead end, sprinting up and grabbing ahold of a fire escape ladder. With an upturned brow, Zero followed her, hauling himself up on the roof of a somewhat dilapidated concrete block of a building, finding her sitting cross-legged at the edge, eyes on the traffic below.

“I see you really didn’t pick ‘Ghost’ just for the clout”, Zero remarked with a dry chuckle as he moved to crouch next to her, bumping her shoulder with his. “Pretty nifty disappearing trick you pulled there. For a kid, you really do know your stuff.” Ghost offered him a sigh in response, leaning back on her hands, looking at him – she had a really piercing gaze, he noted, which was accentuated even further by the pale grey of her eyes. “Could you drop the ‘child’ talk? Last I checked, I was, in fact, an adult.”  
“No way. You’re like, fifteen.”  
“Twenty-four, if you have to know.”  
“The. Fuck. But you’re tiny.”  
“Yes, I am. 24 is what my birth certificate tells me. Though, you are far from the first to assume I am younger. Probably these cheeks.” Ghost reached up and squished her cheeks, which only served to highlight how young she looked. Still, though, she didn’t seem to be pulling his leg, no matter how baffled he was to consider she really was his age. Damn skincare routines.

With a soft chuckle, Zero copied her posture, letting his legs dangle over the edge of the building. He was still riding the post-fight adrenaline wave, and she seemed pleasant enough company to chat with, no matter her oddly formal speech. Besides, he knew he wouldn’t be getting the whole truth out of Castor, if he were to ask, as they would probably be their usual asshole self and go ‘not telling~’. “So, why did you contact me in the first place? Why me?”  
Ghost shrugged her shoulders, eyes back on the street below. “Well, I had seen you around. You have a reputation, you know. You seemed like a good pick, the kind of person I needed. And, well, you delivered.” After a moment’s pause, Ghost turned to him, rolling her eyes. “I honestly do not want to know how you deal with that disaster of a boyfriend you have. They are a handful and a half, and I only spoke with them for about two minutes.”  
The annoyance in her tone elicited a laugh out of Zero, his voice gaining a wistful quality to it. “Yup, that’d be them. Still, they’re worth it.”

After sitting there in silence for a moment, Ghost raised her head, flicking her braids off her face. “Say, Zero, do you think you would be up for a bit more mayhem tonight?” His inquisitive hum seemed to be an answer enough for her, as Ghost raised a finger to point at a nightclub couple of blocks off from where they were sitting. “See that big neon sign? I have had my eye on it for ages. It is pretty, and the club owner is a sexist asshole, so I want to steal it. I was thinking you could give me a hand.”  
“Steal a neon sign? You’re aware it’s bolted to the wall, right? Where would you even put it, anyway? The thing’s huge.” Ghost shrugged her shoulders, waving a crescent wrench in the air.  
“In my room. Interior design?” With a shake of his head Zero pushed himself to his feet, grabbing the wrench. “Fuck it, why not. Lead the way.”

And that is how he ended up teetering on another fire escape ladder, removing a long-ass neon sign from a nightclub’s outer wall on a Thursday evening. Ghost was keeping watch underneath him, both for cops and clubbers, but it seemed their earlier good luck was still going strong. Letting the last bolt keeping the sign attached drop to the ground, Zero stuck the wrench into his back pocket, rolling his shoulders a couple of times. “Ghost, do you have any idea how much this thing’ll weigh? Because if it’s heavy, I’m coming down with it, and I’m making you pay my hospital bills.” Plus, she would get to deal with two very pissed boyfriends, who would probably both smuggle some form of weaponry into the ER.  
“It should be fine. Apparently the signs from this company are quite light. I have done my homework on the subject.” If Zero didn’t know better, he’d think Ghost was making light of the situation, but considering she carried tools that just happened to be exactly correctly sized to get the sign off the wall, this was as well planned as the riot before had been. Whatever. The longer he spent lingering here, the more likely they would get caught.  
The sign was lighter than it looked. Another point for Ghost, then.

If he had to guess where Ghost lived, a nice, airy townhouse near the centre really wouldn’t have been his first guess. She spun the key around her finger, the leather tassel tied to it offering a good counterbalance. “My roommate is probably asleep already, considering it is way past midnight.” She seemed to notice Zero’s reaction to the house, shrugging her shoulders in explanation. “Her parents are old money, and we go way back. I probably benefit from the roommate arrangement more than she does, but oh well. Watch the living room carpet, though. It gathers dirt like no other.”  
Fixing the position of the overgrown light fixture on his shoulder, Zero nodded, following Ghost into the dark house. She dropped her jacket on the couch, leading him upstairs and into, what he assumed, was her room. The red neon really was a thing for her, huh, considering the bar cabinet fixture she had installed into the wall and the small chain of red fairy lights she’d draped over her window. Well, the stolen sign would fit with these just fine.

Zero set the sign down to lean against a wall, as Ghost pulled her boots off, dropping them unceremoniously by her bed. She seemed to eye him up for a moment, then shrug. “I am afraid I have nothing that would fit you. Can you sleep in those?”  
As she gestured to his clothes, Zero felt he’d missed some conversation. “Wait, what? No one’s sleeping anywhere, why should I borrow clothes from you? Look, you’ve met my boyfriend, I’m flattered but-” His tirade was cut short by a cutting hand movement from her. “Zero, it is almost four am. I am not tossing you out to head home at that hour. There is plenty of space on the bed for both of us, or I can sleep on the floor.”  
“But- I can’t make you sleep on the floor in your own house!”  
“Consider it a favour for helping me out tonight. And then we will have to share, hmm? If it calms your mind, I can assure you I have no interest in you in that sense.”  
Zero sighed. From the brief time he’d spent with her, he’d noticed she was really bad at accepting a no. If he wanted to, and part of him really did want to, he could argue with her until morning came, but it wouldn’t change the end result. “Augh, fine. But these sleepovers aren’t becoming a habit, get it?”

“So, Ghost, when will you tell me your real name?”  
“So, Zero, when will you tell me yours? I like my secrets.”  
“Look, who’s sleeping in whose bed?”  
“You agreed to it.”  


Glancing over at her, thinking up a counter-argument, Zero realised it was pointless – Ghost was already asleep. Eyes shut, lips slightly open to allow air to pass through and her entire being awash in red neon glow, she really looked small. To think this same girl had been throwing Molotovs and shouting angry rebuttals to racist rallying cries just hours earlier seemed baffling. She really seemed to house a certain duality, one Zero felt he could heavily relate to.

Maybe he’d just have to stick around. At least until he knew what her actual name was.


End file.
